


the only way is through (get out while you still can)

by mantisbelle



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Volume 7 (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantisbelle/pseuds/mantisbelle
Summary: “I hope this isn’t the last time.” Qrow mumbled. “That I see you.”“She’s coming.” James said for the umpteenth time that evening. “It won’t matter soon.”Or: An alternate take on 07x13.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	the only way is through (get out while you still can)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagpieCrimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieCrimes/gifts).



> Based off of a prompt from ConfessionForAnotherTime on Tumblr.

Qrow was really, _really_ sick of getting injured in the field, by the same asshole every time and in the _exact same way._

But as things were, another slice to his stomach was something that he had no choice but to ignore. Qrow had been through the same thing once before, months before on another continent. That time it had been because he'd suddenly found himself having to juggle fighting Tyrian Callows, the great Butcher of Mistral with protecting his niece who had just _insisted_ upon being in the middle of things.

The first time it had taken some time before Tyrian's venom had really started working its way through Qrow's blood stream.

Back then, he'd pictured it as dark violet that had been dyeing his insides black as Tyrian's heart.

Back then, it had been a _graze._

Back then, Qrow had been able to enjoy downtime and rest immediately following the fight and the injury.

This wasn't the same. The wound was deeper for starters, weeping so much venom that Qrow could barely make out the red of his own blood. The dose of venom was almost too much, like Tyrian didn't _quite_ have full control over the amount just yet.

He'd been trying to deal with Tyrian and Clover at once, and Robyn had been down in the snow, unconscious and alive and Clover—

Well.

What was there to say for what had happened with Clover?

Qrow had his blood on his hands, he had his pin in his pocket stained red with cold red. He had barely had the time to clean Harbinger's blade before he'd realized that Ironwood's men were coming.

He knew how murderers were treated in Atlas, and his nieces and the kids were in danger, so Qrow made the only choice that made sense.

He ran. As soon as he'd seen the Mantas approaching he'd been spreading his wings and heading off to try and stop at least _something_ from getting any worse than they already had that night. Unfortunately, that meant that he had to push himself. It also meant that he had to go straight to the top.

Between the panic and the flying, Qrow didn't know how quickly he'd forced Tyrian's venom throughout his system.

Maybe that was part of it for Tyrian. Maybe there was some thrill in knowing that his victims only brought their own deaths closer with the more that they struggle and fought.

Qrow landed at Atlas Academy and his first instinct was to go checking that the wound in his stomach was indeed both still there and that the bleeding had at least slowed. He didn't have the time to worry over it, not until later. If there was a later, which Qrow wasn't exactly counting on. Even if there _was_ then he had to _hope_ that whatever medical facility he ended up in would actually be able to help him out in the long run.

He sincerely never wanted to have to wait out Tyrian's venom again. The first time had been bad enough to begin with. And that had been a _small_ dose.

But he needed to find James first. He needed to find James and talk him down, scream at him, punch him, do _anything_ to stop him from carrying out whatever idiotic plan that he'd fallen to using within the span of the last hour.

Qrow went to the top of the tower first, to James' office and saw that it was empty. A glass chess piece— a black queen sat toppled over on the desktop which had been left partially shattered.

As soon as he saw it, Qrow understood. He didn't like it, but he understood.

From what he knew that chess piece had started to plague James' nightmares, and even was starting to affect him in the daylight hours.

That meant that he needed to find James, without putting too much unnecessary strain on himself, and he had to try to talk down a man that was either in an absolute panic, or trying desperately to cling onto what was left of himself in the face of his greatest fear coming true.

The Brothers help him, for he was screwed..

Qrow thought fast. Where else would James have been? The vault was an obvious choice, but Qrow wasn't entirely sure that he could find his way. He didn't know where James was keeping the Winter Maiden either.

Without any other answers to come to mind, Qrow seated himself on top of James' desk and opened his scroll. He'd gotten his communications back since James had put them on lockdown (probably along with all of the kid's, if he had to guess,) but hadn't heard a word from it.

When he looked at his contacts, James' contact appeared as being within range, which at least meant that he was in either Atlas or Mantle. Wasn't exactly a whole lot to go off of.

The door to the office opened before Qrow could press a thumb to any of the contacts.

And it was James.

Not his James, though. Not the man that he was used to seeing, the man that he considered friend, the man that he used to fight alongside. Not the man that had shared his bed, or had snuck trips to Vale just to see him.

There was something _wrong._ When James stopped at the door with Due Process in his hand and eyed Qrow, it was a dead expression that spoke more to exhaustion than it did anything else. There was something missing. Qrow knew as soon as he saw it.

Qrow blinked, feeling his head go fuzzy for just a moment. It had to be the venom working its way through his system, not because he was just as tired as James was. It had to be the venom.

"Qrow." James greeted him, voice flat. "Why are you here?"

It was then that Qrow realized that James didn't know about Clover yet.

"Wasn't a fan of that arrest order of yours." Qrow replied, angling himself awkwardly so as to hide the scratch that was probably beginning to bleed purple already and the blade at his back. "Figured that you and I should talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." James grumbled as he approached his desk.

"There's plenty to talk about."

James tensed up as he reached the desk. He was wearing his coat oddly, Qrow realized, but he couldn't figure out why. "Should I assume that you're also here to lecture me about Mantle like you know the weight of the decisions I have to make?"

Qrow almost wanted to wince over the accusation. And it _was_ an accusation, since there was that harsh edge to James' voice that Qrow couldn't just ignore. How many other people had been going after him about it over the course of the night?

"I mean…" Qrow shrugged. "Kind of. I just want for you to slow down and the two of us can talk this out."

"There's nothing to talk about." James said again, almost robotically. "Staying and trying to fight her is pointless."

"People will die."

"People will die regardless of the choice made." James corrected him. "But at least by cutting our losses and running, there might be a chance for a tomorrow."

Qrow eyed him. "Do you remember Beacon?" He asked James, and based on the unmistakable stiffness of his shoulders and the way that he _tensed_ over the mention of it, he did.

Of course, that had been one hell of a night. Charging at James with Harbinger fully out, the idiot thinking that Qrow had been preparing to attack him when that had never been his goal in the first place.

Back then, Qrow had known that James hadn't had anything to do with the city falling.

That had been a world away, with a James that felt so distant that he was almost a different person.

Qrow eyed him. "Come on, Jim." He said. "You're playing into her hands. All you have to do is provide aid to Mantle. Stay and fight, at least a little while."

" _I can't do that."_ James bit back. "Not without compromising Atlas too, and everything that goes with it. Letting her have the relics, the Winter Maiden—" His voice trailed off for a moment. "It's not a compromise that can be made. Staying in place and _letting_ her come to our door only makes things worse."

Qrow blinked. "There's something you aren't telling me, isn't there?"

"I spoke to her." James mumbled. "She—" He shook his head, trying to banish the thought. "It's all doomed. She's at our door, Qrow. You know as well as I do that she won't bother to knock."

And that was the bomb that Qrow hadn't prepared for, couldn't have prepared for, never could have prepared for on any level. For James to have spoken to Salem, and to have done so directly as he was implying, it would have had to have taken something _big._ So big that Qrow could barely imagine what it was.

But then again, Qrow thought as he resisted the all too strong urge to press a hand to his side where Tyrian had sliced into him, Salem had her agents there in the city, and they'd been there for a while if the amount of damage done was any indication.

She had to have ways of contacting Tyrian and Watts both.

But then, why speak to James? The only reason that made sense was a bargain for Atlas, for the relics.

Based on what was happening, Qrow had to assume that James had given his answer and had been pretty clear on the matter.

Qrow blinked. "Was she as bad as you'd imagined?"

"Terrifying." James said, swallowing hard. "If you'd have seen her you would understand."

"So you're taking Atlas and running because she's coming."

"Yes." James said. "And if you're going to stop me, you'll have to go through me." There was a pause. "I don't want to fight you, Qrow. Not tonight. But I have an obligation to my people, and I can't let that lie."

It was then that James turned, his coat swaying where it laid over his shoulders and Qrow got one good look in and he realized why.

He was stupid to think that he was the only one there that was hurt.

The bandaging was significant, and Qrow could tell for a fact that James' arm was in a sling that served a dual purpose as a splint. Something had happened, and Qrow didn't know _what_ it was, but whatever it was the damage on James' body was significant.

Of course James wouldn't want to fight him.

He was probably afraid that he'd have to push himself and end up exasperating the injury.

Losing the arm altogether couldn't have been far from James' mind. A part of Qrow wondered whether James was already bracing himself for what came next: an amputation, a prosthesis, and a recovery period in that order. All things that James wouldn't have time for in the light of Salem coming.

"All you have to do is not abandon Mantle." Qrow kept his voice hard, even as it became abundantly clear to him that despite Tyrian's venom rushing through his veins, he would be the one with the upper hand should it come to his fight. But then again, he didn't know how James fought when he was hurt. "That's all anyone wants. Call off the arrests, and evacuate. Stay and fight."

"She'll kill us all." James said with a shake of his head, turning his body away from Qrow as though he'd realized that Qrow had noticed his injuries. "I can't do that. Not when it'll doom all of humanity on top of the kingdom."

Not good enough.

Was there such a thing as a good enough answer anymore?

James had a point. They were staring the apocalypse in the face.

Pretending like it wasn't happening was damn close to pointless, that much was for sure.

James let out a heavy sigh, his body so tense that Qrow could practically imagine James as one of those trees that his family was named for. Those trees that were so strong that they would never bend, so strong that they wore down chainsaws.

Those trees that were called _iron_ because they'd always sink. Those trees that only broke.

Qrow couldn't ignore it.

James was drowning. That was what was happening. He'd been pushed so far that he couldn't stand anymore, and then he was being left to drown. Worst of all, he was ready to grab onto anyone that tried to be there for him to drag them down with him.

But someone had to be the one to keep him from drowning, even if they ended up going down with him. Someone had to at least _try._

As far as Qrow could see, there wasn't anyone else that could have tried to do it. There was Oscar who James _had_ been talking to from what Qrow had heard. But Oscar wasn't who James would have listened to. He needed Ozpin, not a kid that didn't have the years of experience firsthand.

Or maybe what James didn't need was Ozpin's years worth of experience fighting Salem. Maybe what James actually needed was Ozpin's forgiveness for Vale. Some assurance that he hadn't been the one to drag Ozpin and thousands of others down to early graves.

Typical James, really. He'd probably spent the bulk of the last two _years_ beating himself for what had happened in Vale mentally. Qrow figured James would be just as relentless in that self-flagellation as he was in everything else.

"Look, Jimmy." Perhaps using the old pet name was a little too much, Qrow thought. Maybe that was dancing along the edge of being too familiar given the circumstances. "There has got to be a better way to handle this. You can't just abandon Mantle. I know that the math seems to go the other way, but you can't."

James glared at him, turning away from Qrow. "Then what would you suggest?" He asked. "You come here and you tell me not to go forward with a plan, a contingency that has been in place for longer than you could even possibly realize. What plan do you have? What plan do your children have?"

He didn't have one.

None of them had a plan.

They were all no better than Ozpin in that regard.

But no plan was better than a fundamentally broken one, wasn't it?

He had to play with whatever he had in hand. "Where's Fria?"

"Stable."

"For how long?"

"She has dementia." James replied. "She can fight, but only barely. It would be too easy for her power to fall into the wrong hands."

Answering the question without saying it outright. Typical. _Fucking_ _typical._

Silence settled over the room. "You're the one that brought the aura transfer machines to Vale."

James turned away from Qrow. "Upon Ozpin's request."

"You're going to _kill her._ "

"Leaving her to Salem would kill us just as quickly." James bit back. "She's coming. We can't risk it."

Qrow didn't have to ask to have a good feeling as to who James had singled out for the task. There was a reason that James kept Winter close, and it wasn't just because he'd become an odd surrogate father to the girl. It was because she had a powerful semblance and raw talent that was hard to come across.

On top of that, Winter Schnee was _fiercely_ loyal.

What better candidate to be the next winter maiden was there, even down to the girl's name.

A wave of nausea crashed over Qrow, and he leaned against the pillar that was behind him for support. Tyrian's venom was getting further and further into his system, so much quicker than it had been the last time. Qrow wouldn't have been surprised for a second If he had gotten hit with a larger dose than the first time.

Either that, or his body was less able to fight it off anymore. That was a thing, wasn't it, that people would get weaker to venom after having taken an antivenin? Qrow thought that he'd heard of it somewhere before.

If that was true, then Tyrian had to know it damn well too.

James eyed him. "Qrow?"

"Sorry." Qrow muttered. "Bastard hit me."

Recognition dawned on James' face. "Callows?"

"Yeah." Qrow muttered. "Don't judge me, Jim. I can tell that Watts did a hell of a number on you too."

James' expression darkened. "Then I suppose we're both reliving old injuries tonight."

Qrow swallowed. "Don't really have the time for it, do we?"

"They're going to have to take it." James mumbled. "And I couldn't tell you whether we have an antivenin available for you."

_Shit_.

What were they even supposed to do with all of that going on?

"Look, Jim." Qrow realized all at once that he was going to end up begging. "Neither of us are in the place to keep on fighting."

"That's _why_ we need to retreat." James growled. "Please, Qrow. You can't change my mind. Right now _I_ am the one holding the front line against Salem, and _I can't save everyone_. _"_ He stood up, spine military straight. "People are going to die no matter what. If that means that Mantle falls to save two relics and a maiden, then that will be what is necessary because at least the rest of us have the chance of living."

Qrow glared across at James. "I'm not going to let you do this."

"Then don't." James replied, still not bothering to look back at Qrow. "But don't expect my help if you do." There was quiet. "You can succumb to the venom just the same as my arm is taken."

In truth, Qrow supposed that he couldn't have been too surprised that would be the outcome. He let out a breath, dropping his had as he thought it over. "I don't want to fight you." He mumbled for James to hear. "You know that."

"I know." James replied, still not turning to look at Qrow. "I don't want to fight you either. But you and your children have chosen to force my hand." His right hand slid down to his pocket and without James even having to move Qrow knew what was happening. He was calling for his Ace Ops, or for guards, or for someone to come and make an arrest.

If he was arrested, Qrow thought, maybe at least he would be able to get medical treatment.

He stared at James.

"You're really going to do this?" He asked. "Come on, James."

"General." James cut him off. "Don't make me do this." He let out a low breath. "There's time for my assailant to escape without further injury." There was a long quiet pause. "Your nieces need you with them instead of in a cell."

And all at once, he understood.

James was giving him an out, even if it wasn't the best choice. He was giving him a chance to leave, to go back to his kids and protect them.

"I hope this isn't the last time." Qrow mumbled. "That I see you."

"She's coming." James said for the umpteenth time that evening. "It won't matter soon."

Qrow felt his heart drop into his stomach at the realization of where James was. The right thing would have been to stay, to try and take care of him, to try and make sure that James wasn't completely lost to him.

But his nieces needed him. Maybe he'd be able to find medical help somewhere.

He hoped James would find the same among his many subordinates.

With no other option and security on the way, Qrow did the only thing that he could do.

He turned into a crow, and he flew in search of any safety that he could possibly take advantage of. He flew to find the kids. He flew to find someone willing to help.

On the way out, Qrow got one good look at James.

Staring out the window with a gun in his hand.

It was clear that his mind was nowhere good.

Qrow just hoped one day he'd be able to come back.

But that wouldn't be possible, would it?

There was no coming back. Not for them. Not for Atlas. Not for Mantle. Not for Remnant.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://arynasea.tumblr.com)   
>  [Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8354812/)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mantisbelle)   
> 


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